I love you hotI love you iced and in a pinchI will even consume you tepid.

Dark brown as wet bark of an apple tree,dark as the waters flowing out of a spooky swamprich with tannin and smelling of thick life—
but you have your own scent that evenrising as steam kicks my brain into gear.I drink you rancid out of vending machines,
I drink you at coffee bars for $6 a hit,I drink you dribbling down my chin from a thermosin cars, in stadiums, on the moonwashed beach.
Mornings you go off in my mouth like an electricsiren, radiating to my fingertips and toes.You rattle my spine and buzz in my brain.

Whether latte, cappuccino, black or Greekyou keep me cooking, you keep me on line.Without you, I would never get out of bed

but spend my life pressing the snoozebutton. I would creep through wan daysin the form of a large shiny slug.

You waken in me the gift of speech when I am dumb as a rock buried in damp earth.It is you who make me human every dawn.All my books are written with your ink.

Marge Piercy is the author of multiple books of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction; a new poetry collection called The Hunger Moon is due out in February 2011. Marge holds several honorary doctorates and is a popular speaker on college campuses, having taught, lectured, and/or performed her work at more than 350 universities around the world. Born in Detroit, Marge now lives in Cape Cod with her husband and several cats. She writes, teaches an occasional poetry workshop, and is an enthusiastic gardener. Visit her website at http://www.margepiercy.com.